


Gift of a Sword

by Meloncholor



Series: The Gift of a Sword [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AUish, I love this pairing, M/M, Main fic of series, Yay a long one!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:25:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloncholor/pseuds/Meloncholor
Summary: Valmiro finds out what kadan means.





	Gift of a Sword

Warden’s Keep was drafty, but Valmiro felt a deep sense of kinship with the place. The library made him feel safe, the high shelves and rough, leather bound tomes reminded him of the tower. There were a remarkable amount of books on magic and its application, he found a particularly interesting set of volumes on dragon's blood while moving a toppled and scattered shelf. He enjoyed quiet walks around the dilapidated structure, looking through the towering collections of tattered volumes long thought lost to history. 

He had cleared a desk for himself. A small place reminiscent of the one he lost at the tower. When the band of warriors camped here every few weeks or so he added more things to an ongoing collection. Trinkets, books, magical items that serve no purpose other than a small glowing bauble. He kept a journal in the drawer, he found writing out his feelings gave him a deep sense of discomfort and decided to write recipes for his experimental alchemic concoctions and drawings of various flora and fauna he encountered. He missed the solitary feel of the tower. He missed the constant introspection and studious atmosphere of the radial halls and libraries. The outside world felt so out of place to him, no order, no rhyme nor reason for anything. He liked the rhythm his life used to have, the rise and fall of his days spent reading and working in the tower. He felt as though he had purpose there, even the various disciplines he was subjected to felt as though he earned them. 

Valmiro wanted to leave so badly before, to experience the world for himself away from the templars and the stuffy old men who lectured him on his manners. Now all he craved was his books and the silence. He was lost, cold, and alone. Alistair had left leading to him and Valmiro barely knew how to navigate a forest. Leliana tried to soothe, to offer him her soft and encouraging words but she didn’t know how much he wanted to leave. To forget Ferelden and the world and simply retreat somewhere to read. Drawing battle plans and soothing the delicate sensibilities of the nobles felt as though he was taking on the Maker himself, who had surely forsaken him to this place.

The others had not seen it, the others had not even entered the tower after they ‘rediscovered’ it for fear of demons and walking skeletons. Valmiro didn’t blame them. 

The more he stayed in the keep, the more he was drawn up to the high tower. Avernus, the only other living creature in the place worked there alone, and had made no attempt to contact any of the others residing there. However, Valmiro often found himself in his lab. Perhaps it was because he felt they were kindred spirits, two warden mages who preferred the solitude of study to chaos of battle. 

“Afternoon, young man. Come to see my progress?” Avernus stood at his desk in the laboratory, scanning over a large aged tome with a shaking finger.

“No, just wandering.” Valmiro replied. He had come alone, a few books cradled under his arm.

“You seem to wander quite often into my little sanctuary.” Avernus turned the page of his own book.”It’s quite a large fortress, yet you always end up here.” 

Valmiro crossed the lab with ease, the spike protruding from the walls and floor were navigated with a numb familiarity. He skirted the deep pool on the floor and scaled the short steps.

“Do you ever leave?” The boy finally said.

“The Tower?”

“The room.”

“No.” Avernus did not look up from the tome, but he made a small displeased noise, somewhere between a grunt and a hum. “Why are you here boy?” he stood and dusted off the front of his robes.

“I’m taking a few books from your collection to my desk.” Valmiro said, gesturing to the pile under his arm.

Avernus was pleased, his crinkled eyes softened. “You quite like these books. Don’t you boy?” He shuffled towards the nearest chair.

“You have a large collection.”

“A scholar in the wardens,” Avernus snorted. “such a waste of talent. Take the books my boy, you will make more use of them than I.”

He dismissed the other mage with a wave of his hand. Valmiro nodded and left.

000

 

Sten sat in the woods alone. His armor weighed on his shoulders and he held his new sword tightly across his lap. He ran his gloved fingers across the intricate grooves and platework, the soft blue shine glinting in the morning light.

_ Valmiro emerged from the Keep early the other morning. All merchants asleep in their own private building across the courtyard save for Levi’s brother and Sten. The blacksmith dutifully working at his forge and the qunari taking the nightwatch in the stead of Leliana. Sten watched him with interest. He walked with a purpose to the forge. Whether he ignored Sten’s presence or didn’t know he was there he stomped past him. There were thick dark circles under his eyes, their usually violent blue subdued and sleepy. He felt a strange sense of disappointment  when the mage unknowingly dismissed him. He turned his eyes back to the fire. _

_ He could hear a small conversation going on in the forge. The men grumbled back and forth with each other. They laughed gruffly, Valmiro’s smooth chuckle was abnormally warm and Sten wished he could hear the conversation. _

_ The mage emerged from the forge a few moments after that, holding a quite large canvas wrap, as large as him and looking to be heavy. He carried it with ease, his Arcane Warrior training paying off. _

_ He walked straight up to Sten,a small grin gracing his face. Sten’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he furrowed his brows to counteract it. Valmiro was tired. He didn’t have his armor on and was wearing a loose cotton shirt, his helm was gone and his dark curly hair had grown, sten noted, it now reached his shoulders.  _

_ Valmiro reached the canvas out to him. “Sten, this is yours.” he smiled. Sten grunted. _

_ “You’re giving me roll of canvas, I am thrilled.” He chided. “Perhaps you were planning on giving me a few sticks next or a skein of wool to knit my socks.” Valmiro laughed again. The same warm noise as before. _

_ “Just take it my grumpy friend, I had it made just for you.” The mage’s voice was soft and inviting, Sten had to focus so that he wouldn’t seem so eager to take the gift. It weighed much more than he expected, and he could feel the edges of a blade beneath the fabric. _

_ Before he could respond the mage had left again. Making his way to the barracks where the others were sleeping. _

He didn’t understand. Valmiro should have taken the sword. It was remarkably well made and it was enchanted with several runes Sten could only assume Valmiro had forged himself. It stayed cool to the touch. There had been a note loosely tied around the hilt with twine, and Sten thumbed it between his fingers, hoping the words would fade.  _ Starfang - From Kadan. _

He scorned at the word, pressing into it for too long, relishing too much on the tightness he felt in his chest. The word hurt, it was everything he wanted and in the back of his mind he knew it meant nothing at all.

000

Valmiro stored the new books in his desk and returned to the world of the living once more. A few of the merchants were already awake, setting up stalls and beginning the day’s work. He looked for Sten among them, the first to rise and last to sleep he was always awake before the others, excluding Shale who stood posted by the door of the barracks. He had not asked the warrior about his new sword, but he was too afraid last night to see his friend’s reaction. 

“Good morning Shale.” He chimed as he descended the stairs.

“It has left the tower, I was beginning to think it wanted to live with the skeletons.” She chuckled to herself.

“Have you seen Sten?”

She did what Valmiro thought was a nod. “The large one left much earlier behind the barracks. With a large sword, perhaps he has gone hunting.” She pointed behind her.

“Thank you Shale, tell the others where I’ve gone when they wake.”

“I suppose.”

000

“What are you doing Sten?” The writer of the note approached him from behind, warm furs draped over his heavy plate armor. He struggled over the small mounds of snow, clanking the plates together and alerting every animal for miles of his presence.

“You are awake very early Kadan.” Sten murmured. He hated how the accursed word spilled so easily out of his mouth now.

“You are going to catch cold if you don’t get back inside. It was supposed to storm today.” The disgruntled mage wrapped the furs tighter around himself. Sten stood. He turned to face the other and was met with wild blue eye, Valmiro still neglected to find a helmet.

“Return to camp then, I will follow you shortly.”

“Just come with me, that way I know nothing will eat you.”

“Why do you say such things, there is nothing to harm me out here. Unless you truly believe I will succumb to the rabbits.” He waved a hand in the direction of the forest.

Valmiro ignored him. “Come on, I’m going to make breakfast soon.”

Sten felt another pull at his chest. “Very well kadan.” 

The two walked in relative silence, the short walk to camp growing ever slower as Sten ponders the Warden’s actions. Valmiro waited for his friend to speak again, but he was comfortable with the quiet. He kept close to the qunari’s side, he felt a pang in his own chest.

“Sten?”

“Yes?”

“What does that word mean?” 

Sten did not anticipate the question. He balled his hand into a tight fist and did not look down at the shorter man. “It means...my heart.” 

Valmiro stopped walking.


End file.
